Fabulous Five 003 - The Popularity Trap (2 page)

"What's that all about?" asked Jana.

Christie shrugged. "You've got me."

"Maybe he's going to ask your opinion about something,"
Melanie said with a giggle. "You know. Which teachers to fire. Or how many
extra days of vacation we should have this year."

"How many extra days of vacation we
deserve,
you
mean," said Beth. Then seeing that Christie had gathered up her lunch
trash and was about to leave the table, she added, "Go get 'em, Vitamin C!"

Christie made her way through the crowded cafeteria, hoping
that no one had heard Beth call her Vitamin C. She still might be able to
convince them to take her name off the list of candidates. In fact, she might
even talk to Mr. Bell herself and ask him what she could do to withdraw. Christie
cringed. That would be using her relationship with the principal exactly the
way her friends said she could. Which was worse? she wondered. Using it for
personal problems or using it to help the entire seventh-grade class?

"Hi, Christie," called Alexis Duvall from a table
near the door. "I hear you're running for class president."

Christie stopped beside Alexis's table. It was crowded with
kids she knew—Kim Baxter, Lisa Snow, Sara Sawyer, Gloria Drexler, and Marcie
Bee. They were all looking at her and smiling.

Nodding, she said, "My friends in The Fabulous Five
nominated me. I didn't even know they were doing it."

"Yeah, we know," said Marcie. "We signed your
petitions. We knew your friends were doing it in secret, but we didn't know if
they had told you yet. I think it's super that they did a thing like that for
you. It proves how much they like you if they even want you to be president."

"I'll vote for you," volunteered Sara. "Especially
since you're running against
Melissa McConnell.
" She held her nose
and made a face as if she were smelling something putrid, and all around the
table girls began holding their noses and nodding their heads in agreement.

"We'll all vote for you for president and Richie Corrierro
for treasurer," said Alexis. "And if you need help with posters or
anything, just let us know."

The others were nodding and smiling again. It made Christie
feel surprisingly good.

"Thanks, guys. I have to get going now," she said,
moving toward the door. It was nice to know that so many kids were planning to
vote for her. Maybe running for class president wouldn't be so bad after all,
she thought.

She had almost reached the swinging doors leading into the
hallway when someone stepped in front of her. It was Laura McCall, and
following her like a parade of ducks were the rest of The Fantastic Foursome.

"Hello, Christie," Laura said crisply.

"Hi," she responded.

"We hear that you're running against Melissa for class
president."

"So . . . ?" said Christie.

"So—don't get any big ideas about winning," said
Laura. "We're planning such a terrific campaign for her that you couldn't
beat her in a million years."

"That's right." Melissa snickered. "Just wait
until you hear my slogan. 'Vote for Melissa McConnell for president when you
care enough to elect the very best.'" Her nose was in the air and she was
giving Christie a superior look.

Christie didn't answer. She looked straight at Melissa and
thought, It fits. Voting for her is like sending an April Fools' Day card.

"So what's your slogan?" Laura challenged.

Christie pulled herself up to her full height and tried to
act proud. "My slogan is 'Cure all your troubles with Vitamin C.' C stands
for Christie, of course."

The Fantastic Foursome just stared at her for a moment. Then
Laura burst out laughing, and the others did, too.

"Vitamin C!" shrieked Tammy Lucero. "What are
you, a piece of fruit?"

"Sure," said Melissa. "She's gone bananas.
Everybody knows that."

Christie could feel her face turning a bright shade of red.
It had been one thing to make a joke out of Melissa's slogan, but hearing her
own turned around into something stupid really burned her up. "Just wait,"
she said, stomping past them. "I'll beat the socks off of you."

She was still smarting from the encounter with The Fantastic
Foursome when she got to the principal's office. Barreling in without looking
right or left, she went straight to the reception desk and started to tell Miss
Simone who she was.

"Don't bother sitting down, Christie," said the
secretary before Christie could say her name. "Mr. Bell is waiting for
you."

"Great," Christie grumbled to herself. "I
even get the red-carpet treatment from the principal's secretary."

Mr. Bell stood up and smiled cordially when Christie entered
his office. He was tall and slim with a patch of shiny scalp poking up through
close-cropped gray hair.

"Hello there, Christie," he said. "Have a
seat and tell me how your parents are getting along."

"Just fine, thank you," said Christie. Talking so
informally with the principal made her feel self-conscious.

Mr. Bell leaned toward her and lowered his voice to
confidential tones. "I have a special favor to ask you," he said, and
Christie heard warning sirens going off in her brain. What next? she wanted to
shout.

"You are a superior math student," the principal went
on, "and I have been approached by the parents of one of our young men.
Frankly, they feel their son needs help. He's a seventh-grader like yourself,
and he's having a little trouble catching on to the math principles you're
studying right now. I would consider it a personal favor if you would agree to
tutor him a couple of days a week after school."

Christie wasn't sure if she groaned out loud or only in her
mind. How could he ask her to do a thing like that? Tutoring little kids was
one thing, but a boy in her own class? It would be totally embarrassing for
both of them.

"I doubt if you know him," said Mr. Bell, as if he
had read her mind. "He went to Copper Beach Elementary."

"But Mr. Bell . . ." Christie started to protest.

"I assured the parents that you were the sort of person
who would be only too happy to help their son. And of course, as I said before,
I would consider it a personal favor."

Trapped!
thought Christie. Trapped for the second
time today. First she had been trapped into running for class president, and
now she was trapped into tutoring some jerk!

"I hope it won't take up much time," she said. "I'm
running for president of the seventh-grade class, and I don't have a lot of
spare time. In fact, maybe you should look for someone who isn't so busy."

Mr. Bell beamed at her. "Class president, eh? That's
wonderful. And it also proves that you're exactly the sort of person this young
man's parents are looking for. I'm sure you'll be a great influence on him."

The principal didn't notice Christie roll her eyes as he
went to the door and motioned for someone to come into his office. It's
probably the kid himself, she thought angrily. The "young man," as
Mr. Bell had called him. The jerk!

"Christie Winchell," said Mr. Bell, "I'd like
for you to meet Jon Smith."

Christie was stunned. She lowered her gaze from the ceiling
very slowly and looked into the same face that had stared at her in the
cafeteria. Jon Smith was still scowling, and now she knew why.

I know you two are going to hit it off just fine," said
Mr. Bell, smiling and rising from his chair.

Christie felt her heart begin to pound. Jon Smith's sullen
expression hadn't changed. If this was the meeting her horoscope had
mentioned—the part about a special meeting that would bring either conflict or
romance—she had the definite feeling that it was going to be conflict instead
of romance.

"If you'll excuse me, I have some business in another
part of the school," the principal went on. "Feel free to use my
office for the rest of lunch period to get acquainted and set up a schedule for
getting together."

"I'm busy after school today," Christie said
hurriedly when Mr. Bell had left the room. Actually that wasn't true. It was
just that she needed more time. All she could think about now was how
embarrassed she was over the whole thing.

"I'm busy, too," mumbled Jon, frowning.

Christie started to say that she couldn't do it tomorrow,
either, but she stopped herself. After all, she reasoned, she couldn't put it
off forever. She had to do it sometime. She might as well get it over with.

"Tomorrow is okay for me," she offered.

Jon looked down at the floor for a moment, and Christie
suspected that he was thinking about putting it off, too. "Okay," he
said reluctantly. "Where do you want to meet?"

Christie bit her lower lip and thought for a moment. "Um
. . . how about a back booth at Bumpers?"

"NO!"

Eeek! she thought. Bad move. He doesn't even want to be seen
with me. She tried not to let him see how flustered she was, locking her hands
into tight fists and hiding them behind her back. "Well, you can come to
my house if you want to. Nobody will see us there."

Jon shrugged. "Sure," he said. "Where do you
live?"

Christie gave him the address, which he wrote on a small
scrap of paper and stuck into his shirt pocket. Turning to leave, he paused when
he reached the door and said, "Don't think this was my idea, because it wasn't."
Without waiting for her to respond, he was gone.

"It wasn't my idea, either!" she called, knowing
that he was probably too far down the hall to hear her. The nerve! she thought.
I shouldn't have to apologize for something I was pressured into doing.

After school Christie met Katie and Jana, and together they
walked to Bumpers for a soda. Bumpers was the fast food restaurant where the
kids from junior high hung out. It had gotten its name from the brightly
painted bumper cars, relics of an old amusement park ride, that were hanging
from the ceiling and spaced around the floor for kids to sit in. Christie sat in
a green one with Jana, while Katie sat in the booth they wanted to hold until
Beth and Melanie arrived from cheerleading practice.

After they had ordered cherry colas Christie gave Katie and
Jana a helpless look. "How do I get myself into these things?" she
wailed. "I don't want to tutor Jon Smith."

Katie frowned. "It's your fault for letting Mr. Bell
pressure you into it. You should have explained to him how you feel. He would
have listened to you."

"Huh," scoffed Christie. "Fat chance."

"Don't forget that you've been dying to meet Jon,"
said Jana. "It's the perfect opportunity for you to make an impression on
him."

Christie started to protest, but Jana wasn't finished vet. "Don't
kid us," she said with a knowing grin. "You have a crush on him and
you know it."

Someone punched a number on the old Wurlitzer jukebox, and
rock music blasted out, making conversation impossible. Christie was glad. She
didn't really want to talk about Jon. It was true that she had noticed him,
just the way Jana had said, and she did think he was awfully cute. But his
rotten attitude toward her tutoring him had given her second thoughts. Besides,
their tutoring sessions could make any chance of a relationship between them
impossible.

Kids were still pouring into Bumpers, and a few minutes
later Melanie and Beth scooted into the booth and sat across from Katie.

"Gosh. Cheering is so much fun," gushed Melanie.
She was breathless, and her cheeks were still pink from all the exercise. "I
can't wait until the first game. I'll be
so
excited that I'll die."

"Greetings, girls," said a familiar voice from
over Christie's left shoulder.

She didn't have to look around to know who it was. Only
nerd-of-the-world Curtis Trowbridge would say "greetings" when a
simple "hi" would do.

"Hi, Curtis," said Beth. "What's up?"

"Actually it's Christie I want to talk to," said
Curtis with a wink. "But the rest of you can listen in."

Curtis whipped a small notebook out of his back pocket and a
pencil from behind one ear and looked at Christie thoughtfully. "I'm on
the school newspaper staff, you know, and I've been assigned to do a story for
The
Wakeman Smoke Signal
on the candidates for president of our class," he
said importantly. "And I'd like to interview you about your campaign
platform."

Christie was astonished. "You
what?
" she
gasped. "Curtis, I just found out today that I've been nominated. I don't
have any campaign platform. I don't even want the job."

"Don't print that!" Katie commanded, putting her
hand out in a halting gesture. She slid out of the booth and stationed herself
with folded arms between Curtis and Christie, looking as if she would grab the
pencil out of Curtis's hand if he wrote down what Christie had just said.

"Of course she has a platform," Katie went on. "It's
a great platform. She just hasn't worked out all the details yet. We don't want
to start talking about it too soon, so how about giving us a little more time?"

Curtis shrugged. "Sure," he said. "I'll
interview Melissa now and get back to you on Wednesday at school."

After Curtis left, Christie gave Katie a puzzled look. "What
were you talking about?" she demanded. "I don't have any platform."

"So? It made Curtis happy, didn't it? We'll think up
one," said Beth. "Come on over to the booth, and we can talk about
it."

"I see this as a perfect opportunity for you to stand
up for the rights of girls," said Katie once Jana and Christie had settled
into the booth.

Melanie wrinkled her nose. "Katie Shannon," she
scolded. "You can be so boring sometimes. Nobody wants to hear all that junk.
Besides, if she did what you say, probably none of the boys would vote for her.
And don't forget, they're half the class."

"What we need to do is come up with something dramatic,"
said Beth, opening her eyes wide with excitement. "You know, something
that will really get everybody's attention."

"Do you mean something like eliminating physical
education from the curriculum?" Jana teased. "Or making lunch period
two hours long?"

"You've got it!" Beth said, laughing. "Only
it has to be something that kids want and that Christie can deliver."

"Well, I can't deliver Mr. Bell, if that's what you're
getting at. If I could, I wouldn't be in this mess with Jon Smith."
Christie sighed. She had had enough talk about Jon Smith and her running for
class president, and she certainly didn't like the suggestions her friends
wanted to put into her platform much less into an article for the
Sig,
as most kids called the
Wakeman Smoke Signal.
"I'll see you guys
later," she said, getting up to leave. "I'm going home to do my
homework. And do you know what? For the first time in my life, I'm actually
looking forward to it."

Everyone called good-bye as Christie headed for the door,
waving to a few other friends on her way. She was so preoccupied with her own
problems that she almost bumped into someone coming into Bumpers as she was
going out the door. Looking up, she saw to her astonishment that it was Jon
Smith.

He scowled and brushed on past her. Christie clutched her
books and felt her face turning red. Here she was at Bumpers after she had told
him that she was too busy to tutor him after school today.
But
,
she reflected, that was what he had told her, too.